


On Luck and Magic

by Lexis_Cheshire



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: :D, Blood, Minor Character Death, hc dungeons and dragons au, more old work, though i am proud of this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexis_Cheshire/pseuds/Lexis_Cheshire
Summary: (im pretty sure it was accepted as canon) backstory for Grian in @dungeons-and-hermits‘s DnD AU. my second work, hope you enjoy!Grian knew Mumbo hated him, sometimes. He could feel it, his eyes that screamed resentment and his voice, ever so quietly, muttering, “why is he so lucky? Why?” When he thinks that Grian can’t hear.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	On Luck and Magic

Grian knew Mumbo hated him, sometimes. He could feel it, his eyes that screamed resentment and his voice, ever so quietly, muttering, “why is he so **_lucky_**? Why?” When he thinks that Grian can’t hear.

Grian doesn’t blame him. He knows he is _**lucky**_ , knows that his half-sung gibberish shouldn’t, actually, be helpful and yet his little ditty last night made the fire burn for hours without fuel. ( _It was a song, half-remembered but one he’d never let himself forget._ ) He knows he crosses a river without once slipping on the stones, knows he never breaks a glass bottle, knows his arm heals faster than it should, he knows, he knows, he knows.

But what Mumbo doesn’t know won’t hurt him, though he wonders how Grian always has impeccable control over his explosions. Grian can recite his explosion spell forwards, backwards, upside down while asleep, and on occasions not at all, dirt and debris flying when he clears an obstacle without warning.

Mumbo has never seen a burn on Grian, not a single scuff or even tender redness from his explosions, despite his reckless impulsiveness. He asks Grian why, once. He cites his amazing _**luck**_. ( _It wasn’t for lack of trying, after all._ ) 

-

Grian smiles bitterly, reveling in the hilarious irony of it all. He won’t tell Mumbo about his incredible, wonderful _**luck**_ , so many years ago, when he had lived only five blissful revolutions of his world. He won’t tell him of his **_luck_** , to come into his magic so **_early_** , so **_fast_** , so **_strongly_** \- blowing out every single piece of glass in his house in a sudden explosive manifestation of his magical ability.

And when the dust settled finally, the maelstrom of pulverized glass and wind and flame, he knelt in his crown of glass shards, clutching at the window frame till his hands bled - what **_luck_** , it was, to sent his beloved parent? Out the only window facing the cliff, down, _down,_ ** _down_** onto the lovely sea’s shore.

Grian watched the redness of copper and iron spread around their head, a halo of life around their broken corpse. He watched his life pour to join it, cut-up hands dripping down, down, down...

He watched his flesh knit together, leaving nothing behind to show what has happened. What he did. Pristine hands arms and legs and body, carbonized sand flaking to nothing.

He stood in ~~their~~ his house atop the hill, perfect and clean again, a **_lucky_** accident of magic, it was, to vanish the damage! It seemed but a fever dream now, and any moment now ~~they~~ would walk in, yes, with a smile on ~~their~~ face, back from a walk on the beach.

~~They~~ didn't.

He looked out a window. There was nothing to hold, no sharpness to slice his hands apart. The sun was gone, silver waves lapping at the shore...

The red wasn’t there anymore, mixing with the salt of the sea, blurred by the salt of his eyes...

~~Their~~ corpse floated away as he watched, gentle water carrying them out to rest in the sea ~~they~~ had loved so much.

-

His head hurt long after the glass was gone.

-

There was a reason he wore a red sweater, after all. ( _Who else would remember a murder without a body? Without a single lick of evidence? Certainly not the sun._ )

Grian’s specialty lay in flames, sudden disturbances of air, chaos and adrenaline - filled blood. And yet, his explosions, even unprompted by himself, were always precise, always calculated, always careful...Mumbo, puzzled, pondered why the skill that was as wild as Grian’s personality was the only one he exerted so much control over.

Grian just grinned, and laughed, and danced, reckless and chaotic, bark and thorns ripping into skin that healed as soon as it hurt. His eyes aflame with manic brightness, running ahead farther, and farther, and away...


End file.
